Taetra Mussala
by Krin
Summary: [On hold] Jak's two years of torture, a more scientific take. OCs are Taetra Mussala and Slitter. Ties into Studying the Unloved. Rated for, well, torture.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: All characters herein that do not belong to me belong to that corporate entity known in this dimension as Naughty Dog (and as Scelestus Canis in alternate dimensions 1-13.5). All characters herein that do belong to me belong to that clathrate of organic molecules and shiny chromic nail polish collectively known in this dimension as Krin.

taetrus, -a, -um; terrible, Latin

die Mühsal; trouble, German

Welcome to the two years we never saw, my take. Recommend reading Studying the Unloved before this one. Not necessary, just recommended. This fic is going to be a little disjointed at first, but peeps who stick it out (ya'll know my writing style by now heh) are muchly appreciated!

**Dark Warrior Program:**

**Electronic Information Center**

**Welcome to the Electronic Information Center, a subsystem of the Dark Warrior Program. Please select inquiry. Use INDEX if unsure of desired File.**

**You have selected the Experiment-Classified Files.**

**You need level Axe Morbid clearance to proceed. Please enter password.**

**Thank you for entering password. Please hold while we verify your password, voice recognition, second password, retinal scan, matrix ID, and eco tolerance.**

**Thank you for waiting. All clearance complete.**

**Welcome, Taetra Müssala.**

**NOTE!**

**Classified Experiments: Conveying any of the following information (whether by speech, written word, coded or encrypted, electronic/aural/optical/signed communication or any other forms of information transfer not noted here) to unauthorized persons will result in termination.**

**Please select Experiment # to upload new information for an existing experimental subject, or Request to begin a new file.**

**You have selected Request. Dark Warrior Program is computing, please hold...**

**Newest subject is # 75. Please be as specific when completing the file as possible. **

**Experiment # 75**

**GN: (Given name)**

**G(ender): **

**R(ace): H(aven)**

**Mother: **

**Father: **

**PE: (physical examination)**

**E-F(actor): **

**EE (past eco experience): **

**T(olerance): **

**Tx: (toxicity to eco level- pt at which death occurs)**

**RDs: (recommended dosage)**

**EH: (experimental history)**

**ON: (other notes)**

"He doesn't have a name, ma'am."

"He can't speak, ma'am."

"I told you to address me as a Taetra!"

"Sorry. Baron wants treatments to start right away. Do you need help moving him, Taetra?"

"_Number 32's dead, oh Mighty Taetra Müssala."_

"Great. That'll free up a bed."

"_Damn shame, Number 32 was fine. Do you want me to log the new victim in?"_

"He doesn't have a name, Slitter. You boys beat him up a little?"

"Yes ma'am!"

"Put him on that bed, there."

"Erol's coming, ma'am."

_A/N (I hate how you can't separate pieces of story with asterisks anymore) Short, yes. Still am working on chapter one. The bolded piece you see there will probably be in later chapters. The stuff in parentheses won't be written again, so if you get confused, just come back to this chapter. Everything has to begin somewhere..._

_Yes, this connects to most of my other J&D fics. Please review and have a good diurnal existence!_


	2. Erol's Proposition

**Ok! Thankies go to: Yunie, Aave, Snowy Fox, orlandobloomfn, and hellmouth2.**

**This ficcie is gonna be dark, ya'll. (as if you couldn't tell already) I got all addicted to DA this weekend, and this is the only story I could concentrate on. (bangs head on desk)- I left "Studying the Unloved" at home! I wanted to update that one next, but... argh. I'll get it this weekend.**

**Anyway. Yeah. Thanks for comin' back! Enjoy.**

_Erol is coming? Augh. That Hora-Quan drisch pile._

The Krimzon Guards threw the boy onto the plastic lined mattress. His limp arms splayed out, knocking the bedside equipment over. Taetra Müssala scoffed and rubbed one black hand across her forehead. Her metalthorn bracelets clinked together. "When's the Baron importing the order I gave to him?" She clicked her Ts with a thick Sicklian accent.

One saluted. "Don't know, Taetra ma'am."

_Of course you don't know. That fool probably hasn't put it in yet._

Her comm crackled again. _"Dump 32 immediately?"_

"No. See if you can get any eco out of her from the Squeezer." Müssala flicked the electronic Experiment-Classified File on and impatiently waited for clearance.

"_Righty. Wish I could squeeze those-"_ The comm died as Slitter and the body of Number 32 entered the freight elevator.

"Idiot," muttered Müssala. She studied the blue screen and its overly polite ID prompts. The ECF ran through dozens of files before creating a new one, Experiment #75.

"You need us anymore, ma'am?"

Müssala turned, gnashing her teeth. "Call me ma'am one more time, and I'll cut your _chodeiz_ off with a salt knife. You hear me?" She kicked the fallen IV stand with her left foot. The metal pole bent on impact and screamed across the steel floor, shooting sparks.

The Guards glanced at each other, shrugged, and left. Müssala hissed as the door shut behind them. _"Natz chodeiz-vackters!"_ She yanked her slit shirt in irritation, metal threads splitting the lab light. The flat screen in her hand beeped. "Shut up." She stomped back over to the boy- stomp CLANG stomp CLANG.

Müssala bent over the unconscious figure and pulled one of his eyelids up. A glazed blue orb stared back. His slick forehead was bruised and blood had dried in streaks through his blonde hair.

She chuckled. "Praxis thinks you're a special one," she said, eyeing his facial bruises. "I can tell you are. Idiots." She set down the ECF screen and slapped his face. He whimpered. "Nice, firm white skin you got, boy-o. Don't come like you where I'm from. Nu-uh." The blue of his eye rolled up and his lids closed. "No name, no voice." She laughed again, an icy sound. She pulled restraints over his arms and secured them to the bed. "I'll have you screaming 'for the night's out."

The door slid open and to Müssala's extreme annoyance, the commander of the KG strode in.

"Praxis imports the very best from Sickle and we're on the seventy-fifth subject?" Erol pointed to the boy. Coffee sloshed out of the cup he held.

Müssala's black eyes flashed. "It's not me you have the problem with." She locked restraints around the boy's ankles. "These subjects lack the necessary qualities."

Erol looked at her over the rim of his cup. "I see. It's not your fault your experiments fail. It's always the equipment, or the subjects, or the laboratory assistants."

"It is the equipment!"

"Of course." Erol rolled his eyes. "But what you don't realize, Taetra, is that each one of these failures costs precious eco. There is only so much in the ground!"

Müssala glared. "This boy is different." She pulled her hair back. It shimmered reddish black in the humming lab lights. "He will be the one. You will see."

"Really? You've been nothing but trouble to the Dark Warrior Program," hissed Erol. "You've repeatedly overdone treatments and falsified reports." He glanced around the lab. "How did you secure your passage here, anyway?"

Müssala ignored him. "You don't have the right equipment for this one, and I'm sick of these idiots barging in at all hours of the night." She gestured to the door, where two Guards stood. "They-"

"_Taetra Müssala, this is Slitter."_

She snatched her comm. "Not now!"

"_Number 32 left a nasty stain in the Squeezer and yielded fifteen cubic centistandards of eco. Permission to take it home?"_

"Denied!" Müssala slammed the comm off. She rubbed her necklace between her fingers, hurling mental curses in Erol's direction.

The commander snorted and finished his coffee. "I'm just waiting now, Taetra. You knew it was only a matter of time before Praxis terminated you. I told him today, 'if that _woman_ screws up one more time, I'll beat her in Solitary Confinement myself.' And do you know what he did? He laughed. 'You'd like that, wouldn't you, Erol?'" The commander paused. Müssala narrowed her eyes, but said nothing. "He has an announcement for you." Erol chuckled. "Yes. Once you're gone, I will be the Director of the Dark Warrior Program."

Müssala's metal-laced teeth glittered. "You will never have this program. You are too arrogant. You know nothing of dark eco!"

"I've worked with it-"

"But I've lived it!" Müssala approached the KG, her heavily beaded skirt swishing, "breathed it! Worshipped it! Made sacrifices to it!"

"Your primitive voodoo means nothing!" snapped Erol.

Müssala swore at him in Sicklian, waving her hands in an elaborate curse. "_Your death will be great! An exploding poison, a scaring pain! You will die from Darkness itself!"_

"Tsk, tsk." Erol looked bored. "Don't you want to hear what the Baron has to say?"

The Taetra finished her curse with a longevity spell and looked at him crisply. "What did Praxis say?"

Erol pulled an official document from his chest plate. "Experiment # 75 is your last. If he does not survive the Dark Warrior Program and become the Baron's ultimate weapon, you will be terminated."

Müssala breathed in sharply.

"But I have a little proposition for you," said Erol, stepping forward. "I see what the Baron doesn't. I know how much you enjoy your work. I recognize your talent for organizing and improving on our methods." He studied his nails nonchalantly. "If, given your past history of failure, you'd rather not bet your life on this subject, step down now. Tell the Baron to make me Director. I'll let you work beneath me. There's no need to kill anyone."

"Praxis won't terminate me," she whispered fiercely. "He would not _dare_."

"You can take my offer or chance your life on this _boy_." He waved vaguely at the bed.

"Never." She spat on the floor. "I would never work under you."

"Really? I beg you to reconsider." Erol grabbed her arm, thumbing her tribal scars. "So textured," he said. Müssala gritted her teeth. "We're not so different," his fingers touched her neck, her chin. "I know your language. Pleasure from pain." His voice was hoarse. "See?" He pressed against her. "_Vackt_ me-"

She snatched his hand and twisted it. Erol screamed. "You better not be touchin' a Taetra like that!" She crushed his fingers. "I don't care what rank you hold, you yellow-spandexed bastard! I ain't a Doxy. Touch me again," she let go, "and you'll be sorrier than that boy."

The two Guards ran over, holding their guns up. Erol gasped and his fingers cracked as he opened his hand. "You- you," he stuttered. "You'll regret that, _witch_," he spat.

She snarled and stepped forward. The Guards powered up their guns.

"Don't fire." Wincing, Erol curled his fingers and shook his fist in her face. "Another attack like that and I'll have you roasting over a spit. The Baron's watching, woman. He wants results." His pained eyes flickered over to the bed. "You better _hope_ that one's different."

**Can you tell I don't like Erol? Heheh. Please review! Thank you! **


	3. Slitter

**Thankies and general information to the following: **

**Attention Erol fans: Krimzon 1 and Kyoto: you can keep him, and thanks for your reviews! **

**Orlandobloomfn, YunieYuna, Red Hawk K'sani, jess, dOMITUPSYK, Jaks-Girl, and the Amazing Miss Mandy: thanks for your reviews! **

**Soran Marlovic: thank you, please don't drool on me **

**Hellmouth2: This fic will not contain rape, as that is something I have serious problems with. Thanks for the review! **

**Contains one swear word! ("damn" and "hell" don't count, damnit) It's the first (English) swear word I've used in all my J&D fanfiction. Please keep in mind this _is_ rated PG-13.**

**Gotta get some characterization out of the way before we get to the fun stuff. Enjoy!**

"Hey Taetra. What's the glare for? _What?_ I didn't pocket the DE. I put it into Recycle/Containment, just like the perfect assistant I am. ...fine! Don't believe me. Mar, you look like you grabbed the wrong end of a yakkow and milked it... We get paid today, right? I wanna hit the creep joint when we're done. That girl, Number 32, you know? She was a Doxy. Mmm, sweatmeat. Seein' that pretty thing go through the Squeezer made me _hungry_, heh. I can't wait to rip into one of those little bitches tonight... Okay, awkward silence. Hey, remember that time you told me to double the DE on Number 68's Eco Tolerance Test, even though I told you she wasn't ready yet, but then I _accidentally_ quadrupled it, and her hair caught fire, and her skin melted off? And she screamed and screamed! HAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAA! That was so funny! Hahahaaaaaaaaa... ahhh. So. We got a new victim, huh? Where? Oh. _Him?_ Forgive my impudence, Oh Brilliant Menacing One, but I do believe I eavesdropped on a conversation with a certain well-hated Commander wherein your life was put against this scrawny boy's ass, which, I may add, has a daisy's chance in Dead Town of surviving your DE treatments... you're making that face again."

"Slitter. Shut. Up."

"It can't be healthy to frown like that. You'll get wrinkles. Wrinkles are ugly."

"Vackting..." _It's a good thing I like you so much, boy-o, or I'd put you through that damn Squeezer._

"Okay! Your death glare is psychologically damaging enough. Last thing I need is your metal foot in my crotch." Slitter shrugged and sank into a wheeled chair. He laced his fingers behind his neck and put his heels up onto Number 75's bed. His signature, wicked grin cut across his face. "So, we cookin' him tonight, or what?"

Taetra Müssala rubbed her forehead. She could still smell Erol in her clothes; that ghastly blend of pheromones and disgust. Slitter watched her expectantly, green eyes flashing. "You're a real cute boy-o," she said after a moment, touching one finger to his cheek. Slitter made a vulgar purring noise. "But shut up."

"Ouch." He put one hand over his heart.

"We'll do preliminary things tonight; fill out the basics, _maybe_ begin the eco tolerance. The Commander," she spat the word, "has destroyed my usual interest in haste. Slitter," she looked at him, "this one is different. He will be the Dark Warrior. But we must go on carefully."

"Carefully. Gotcha."

"Get your damn feet off the bed!"

Slitter silently swung his legs down.

"Give me the ECF. Is it still on the new screen? Good." Müssala stood at the bedside. Slitter inched the wheeled chair over, restraining the urge to spin in it. "This time, I'll state the entry questions. I want to see how much you've learned."

"Whatever pleases you." Slitter snapped long black gloves on and ran his tongue over his filed teeth.

"He's been restrained in case the examination wakes him." Müssala waved her hands over the bed, metalthorn bracelets clinking. "Look at this sweet boy," the Taetra slapped his face. "His momma loved him, you can tell. You feel that, Slitter?"

The assistant made a growly noise.

"Course you don't. You're a skáhgadah, you know that? Cruel cruel, all the way through." _If natz-licker Erol hadn't pissed me off, I'd be curling up against you right now_. Müssala pulled the electronic pen from the side of the ECF screen. "Given Name?"

Slitter leaned back and thought. "You said he didn't have a voice."

"Good. We'll name him later. I have one in mind that I think will fit him." Müssala skipped down to the next line. "Gender?"

Slitter snorted. "Male."

"Race?"

"Hmm." Slitter stood and turned the overhead lights up. "He ain't dark meat," he said. She narrowed her eyes. "Well, he isn't. He doesn't look Perpetuan, either. Haven, I'd bet."

Müssala wrote it in. "Yes. And what does this mean?"

"Possible higher eco tolerance. Unlucky bastard."

"Right. His momma was from where?"

Slitter slid one hand under Number 75's bloody neck and tilted his head up. "Interesting zygomatic arches... judging by the wide eyes and slim body build, I'd say Perpetua descended. Probably Eastern."

"Why?"

"Conservative muscle structure with elongated hands and feet. He definitely does _not_ display the bulging gut of a Western."

"Right." Müssala smiled sourly. "And his father?"

"The trickier one. Hmm..." Slitter studied Number 75's scalp, pushing the bloodiest strands aside. "Green roots and yellow shafts. Bicolored hair, that's somewhat uncommon." He pressed his thumbs into the subject's temples. Number 75 groaned, face twitching in pain. Slitter walked his gloved fingers down the jawbone and searched the throat for specific tendon placement. He frowned. "Damn. Got me. Mutt?"

"Right. In the future, don't press so hard on the larynx, you could damage the trachea." Müssala touched Slitter's arm. "Didn't you hear him gasping?"

"Yeah." He snickered.

Müssala shifted her feet, beaded skirt rustling. She scanned the ECF. "Physical examination, E Factor, Past Eco Experience, Toxicity..." She sighed. "Take fluids first." She took his chair and watched him retrieve the kit from across the room. The air filled with the smell of antiseptic. "You assemble a needle faster than anyone I ever saw."

"Gotta love what you do," said Slitter, poking the tip of it into Number 75's elbow. "Ooh, look at that draw." They both watched the blood seep into the vial. "He doesn't like that very much, does he? Heh."

Number 75 blinked a few times and struggled to move his arms. The bed he lay on was cold, and the lights above bright. He turned his head, looking side to side frantically with wide eyes.

"Hello, Number 75," said Müssala, bending close to him. Her necklace scraped across his face and he tried to press himself further into the bed. "Don't like my jewellery?" She held it up. "Baby fingers and Metal Head canines woven together, a potent power amplifier. But you have so many other things to worry about now." She smiled. Number 75 goggled at her metal-laced teeth. "Blue-eyed boy, can you speak?"

"Ahh, ahh," Number 75 looked from the black woman to the grinning man, who rubbed blood between his gloved palms. His breathing quickened. He kicked his legs, trying to free them from the restraints. He whimpered.

"I think he likes us!" Slitter grabbed a swab. "Open wide." He forced Number 75's mouth open, smearing blood all over his face. "Just need a quick- stop gagging!"

Number 75 choked and coughed, arching his back. Müssala put a hand on his chest and pushed him down. "Now that he's awake I can really feel it. He has a frightening axis. Do you feel it?"

Slitter yanked his fingers back. "The bastard bit me!" He sneered and jabbed a thicker needle into Number 75's throat.

"Hnnnnn..." the boy's breathing steadied and his eyes glazed over. Drool seeped from the corner of his mouth. Slitter raised one arm to smash him across the face, but Müssala grabbed his wrist.

"What did I say about this one?" she asked darkly, tightening her grip.

Slitter grit his teeth. "Be careful."

"That's right," Müssala watched his eyes for a moment before releasing him. "No superfluous damage."

Slitter hissed and shook his hand. "I'll process this right away," he said, snatching the kit. "Back in a second, my Sadistic Lady."

Müssala watched him leave, still feeling the warmth of his arm in her flexed fingers. _What a wretched Taetra you've become, seduced by a stupid boy. But I can feel his emotions, his disturbing desires... They crawl into my skin. Pure skáhgadah. I want to touch that stupid boy's face. I want to rip my hands through his black hair. I want to hear his voice in the dark... It would be so easy to just _take_ him. Ensnare him. Drag him back with me and show him what happens when you give in..._ She chuckled uneasily. _Or if he won't give in, force... But that's what Erol wanted from me._ She huffed. _Vackting Slitter._

"Oh great. That face again." He stood with his arms crossed. "Pray tell, Venomous One, what are you thinking?"

Müssala smirked. "You do not want to know."

"There's nothing a sinister mind can think that I don't want to know," he said.

"Do the physical examination."

"Aww, c'mon. That wasn't it. I know it wasn't."

"Begin with the upper extremities." Müssala motioned to Number 75 with the ECF.

"Are you afraid to tell me, Taetra?" He sidled up to her. "What's in that metal lined skull? You got secrets?" He grinned and grinned.

She was terribly aware of his closeness. The hair on her scalp prickled. He smelled like blood and disinfectant. "Of course I do. Move."

Slitter studied her for a minute. "Okay," he said finally, backing up to the bed. He cut Number 75's clothing off and threw it into the incinerator. "Freakin' peasant," he spat, eyeing the homespun sandals suspiciously. "If I see one louse, I'm spraying him with hydrochloric acid."

"You'll do no such thing," said Müssala. "Look at those eco lines!"

"Hmm..." Slitter cast a disapproving eye along Number 75's torso. "Looks like he's been playing with colors for a while. Is that a white eco burn?!"

Müssala nodded, dumbfounded. "He must be a channeler," she said. She ran one finger along the thick scar. "This is the Axis. It goes from mid-chest to navel. Within it run quite a few distinct eco lines. Red, blue, yellow, green; he's had experience with all. I can feel," she shut her eyes and concentrated. "Yes. By Sesslurak Alone! He will be the Dark Warrior."

Slitter continued the examination, shouting out random insults and medical terms alike. Müssala recorded the more pertinent details, Erol's words gnawing at the back of her mind.

_I know your language... pleasure from pain... you better hope that one's different..._

"-ssala? Hey! You didn't laugh at my last witty comment."

"Oh?"

"I said, 'with the way I'm workin' it down here you'd think he couldn't inhibit his cyclic GMP degradation. His guanylyl cyclase must be pretty damn lonely.'"

"Yes. Very mature."

"I'd die if Little Slitter didn't get his nitric oxide signals."

"Silence!" Müssala squeezed her eyes shut in annoyance. "Get out of here, Slitter."

"Aww, we're not gonna toast him?"

"No. Not after you stuck him with the sedative."

Slitter laughed and peeled the black gloves off. "Right, whatever gets me out of here early. Til tomorrow, Lady Dementia."

Müssala watched him saunter out, alternating between the desire to stick a scalpel into his spine and to chain him to a bed. "Moron," she said at last.

**GN: ?**

**G: M**

**R: Haven**

**Mother: EP?**

**Father: mutt**

**PE: Complete**

**E-F: most probably high**

**EE: mp high**

**T: Pending**

**Tx: Pending**

**RDs: Pending**

Müssala updated the file into the Dark Warrior Program. She pulled the curtains around Number 75's bed. "I'll see you tomorrow evening," she said wryly.

On the way out of the lab, she punched a hole in the wall and felt somewhat better.

**Krin: Okay, that's done now. Please review!**

**Thrinaxia: You just know they're going to ask... I might as well explain it to them. Attention all tiny-minded mammals who wish to know such things, and have wretched access to science: Viagra works by blocking the degradation of cyclic GMP, prolonging the nitric oxide signal. Figure out the rest yourselves.**

**Krin: O.O I don't know why I write you.**

**Thrinaxia: Because I appeal to your superiority complex.**

**Krin: Oh. Okay. **


	4. 62 Suffers

**Studying the Unloved and this one are about to get a little more related…  
****Thank yous to the following kind linklies, who all deserve hand-made heart-shaped cookies: Miss Mandy, Jaks-Girl, Miss Yunie, Hellmouth2, Light-Eco-Sage, Red Hawk K'sani, Krazy Jimbo, Skerrieseses, dOMITUPSYK, my Lovepuff, Lenipez sideshow, horaquan hybrid aaaaaaaaand Luna-Kitsune-Blu.  
****I have changed this to an R rating, due to the filthy mouths of Müssala's victims. Enjoy the next chapter! It's short, but it's been sitting in my computer for a long time and I haven't added anything new, so I guess it's ripe enough.**

"_You will climb the sheer vertical cliffs of the Northern Shore without rope. You will touch your skin to the burning metal-rock of the Chromic Beach. You will go into the Underworld without light. You will wander the Midlands without water. You will cross the boiling pits of the Southern Shore without shoes..."_

Number 75 stank of fear and sweat. His frantic eyes were underscored with deep purple. Müssala sang her Taetran prayers, frowning at the ECF screen. Number 75's E Factor had to be determined.

"Well, now, boy-o," she looked down at him. He had scrunched his shoulders, trying to cover his ears. "Don't like my singing? This is only the first day! There's so much to do to you." She turned and picked up a gun. "I have a fun activity planned, and then we'll get to your E Factor."

Number 75 groaned, eyebrows creasing. He grit his teeth and made strange sounds.

"Hmm?" Müssala saw that he was squeezing his legs together. Number 75 blushed; he was still unclothed from the examination the night before. "Ah. Yes, a bathroom break, after we make one thing clear." She leaned over him. "_I own you_."

He shook his head, glaring.

"Yes, I do. And to ensure that you don't ever forget it, I'm going to give you a little demonstration." Müssala tossed a towel over the boy's waist and snatched her comm. "Slitter!"

"_Yo sexy momma, that's my name, don't wear it-"_

"Shut up. Bring Number 62 in here."

"_Sheesh, your Holy Darkness. We're right outside the door."_

Müssala snapped the comm shut. "Number 75," she said, walking around his bed. She found the pneumatic pump and elevated his mattress. "Everyone is nothing but a number. But you... You will be given a name. Soon. You are very important to me, 75. If there's one thing you should be happy about, it is that I _cannot let you die_. None of the others have this comfort. However, you are still mine. I cannot control you through lethal means, but I will control you nonetheless. It would be best if you cooperated of your own will. Number 62 is going to show you what happens when you do not."

Slitter entered the room backwards, dragging a young man by his arm shackles. "C'mon!"

"Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit," the man's knees scraped along the floor. His eyes were red and yellow.

"Get up, you idiot," Slitter pulled his chains and kicked him.

The young man saw Müssala's gun. "Fuck," he covered his face. Tears ran between his fingers. "Oh shit."

Number 75 stared at him. He had tucked his knees under his chin. Huge needle scars punctured his burned arms.

"Number 62!" Müssala marched over and pulled his head back. "Get up, _now._"

He blinked and slowly stood, shaking. Müssala tossed a fistful of hair aside. "Why you gotta do this?" whispered 62.

"Oooh," mocked Slitter, making a stupid face, "_why you gotta do this?_" He laughed. "They're so funny when they're about to be horribly tortured."

Number 75 shivered.

"75, you belong to me," Müssala shouted, not looking back at him. She tilted the gun and aimed for 62's chest. "You will obey. I do not ask for much, just simple cooperation. If you do not comply, you will suffer."

With a gentle click, a searing beam of light enveloped 62. He staggered back and fell. His screams filled the room. Number 75 gasped. Each of 62's limbs jerked in a different direction. His facial features twisted and his eyes throbbed. Red saliva leaked between his broken teeth. His screams broke into staccato cries as spasms wracked his lungs. Another sound crept in and drowned them out.

Slitter was laughing.

Müssala watched, her face devoid of expression. _A true skáhgadah. He may not understand how important 75 is. I must always be present when he tests this new boy-o._ Number 75 panicked behind her.

Number 62 collapsed into an eerie stillness. His skin split, each new rip hissing a foul vapor. Slitter stooped and grabbed his shackles. "Oh man," he said, wiping his eyes. "That made my day. C'mon crispy, back to your cell. I'll return in a minute to help with the E Fac- Ha ha! Look at that! 75 pissed his towel!" Slitter bent over laughing. "And he's _crying_, too!"

Müssala turned to Number 75. The boy was horrified, tears running down his white cheeks.

"Go, Slitter. I'll do it myself."

Slitter's cackling stopped short. "But… I love doin' E Factor-"

"Get out!"

Slitter scoffed, "yeah, sure, whatever." He "accidentally" swung 62's skull into the metal door as they left.

"Now, boy-o," Müssala touched the tip of the gun between 75's eyes. His breaths came in shuddering gasps. "62 isn't dead. He wishes he was, but he isn't. Do you understand what will happen if you do not obey?"

Number 75 bit his upper lip and looked away.

"You're filthy. See that door on the side?" She jutted her head. "Leads to a shower cubical. I'm going to loosen these restraints. This gun isn't leavin' your third eye for a second. You go in there and you clean yourself up. Come back out here and I'll give you some clothes. You _want_ to do these things. You understand?"

The boy made a squeaking noise. He rubbed his wrists and stood uncertainly.

"Walk slow."

He nodded, then lunged, "yahh!"

Müssala grabbed his fist and slammed him against the door. "I saw that!" She twisted the gun barrel. "I saw it in your eyes." He tried to push the taller woman away. "Best let that light die, that inside light. Best if you just let it die." She gripped his forearm. "Now get in there."

She shoved him into the cubical, a red circle imprinted on his forehead. The shower's motion sensors turned the water on. Müssala slammed the door shut and kicked the stained towel into a floor receptacle. _If that didn't teach the boy-o to obey, Sesslurak save me._


	5. E Factor

**Whee! Okay, thankies to these linkies: Luna-Kitsune-Blu, Lenipez sideshow, Krimzon 1, Miss Yunie, Miss Mandy, dude, Daypaw, dOMITUPSYK, Krazy Jimbo, Cherrii, Jaks-Girl, and Kaytee.  
****Re: Scientific jargon- most is based on actual biological-medical concepts. Except in this chapter there is something called a "biocritical" line. I made that up. Because it would take way too long to explain how it works without interrupting the flow of the story.  
****Enjoy!**

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Number 75 had regained some color in his cheeks. After his shower Müssala had thrown him a clean set of clothing. Now he stood, watching her with his huge blue eyes. Every few minutes he ran a hand through his wet hair, flicking water purposefully onto the bedside instruments. A huge KG saluted behind him, gun in hand.

"You need anything else, ma'am?"

"Taetra," Müssala snapped. She glared at the soldier. "You will stay and make sure he doesn't cause any trouble."

"I got wall duty in half an hour, Taetra."

Müssala paused. "Erol has given me permission to use the Guard in case a subject needs restraining," she said carefully. _Hopefully this natz licker isn't stupid enough to question me._

The KG nodded and shifted the gun to his other arm.

_I don't have enough hands to set this up and keep you still, boy-o._ She glanced at him. He had picked up a tool from the counter and was looking at it curiously. The Guard seemed to be trying to decide if this behavior was considered "trouble."

Müssala pulled the mattress off the bed. The frame beneath was metal with a body-shaped cavity lined in plastic. Hundreds of holes were bored along the sides of the cavity. Müssala flipped the vacuum switch and the bed made a strange swooshing sound. Number 75 looked up. Müssala ran a hand over the bed. Suddenly it was pulled down and stuck to the holes. She wiggled it. _Good._ She flipped the switch back and the noise stopped. "Get on," she nodded her head at the boy. He blinked. "Get on the bed!"

The KG pushed him with a gun and the boy climbed into the plastic cavity. "Where are the restraints?" asked the KG.

"We can't use metal restraints when doing E Factor," said Müssala. She rolled the boy's long sleeves up and turned his arms over. The insides of his elbows were smooth. The faint patterns of his veins were visible through his skin. "When you flip this," she pushed the switch and raised her voice over the swooshing sound, "a partial vacuum is created inside the bed, rendering the subject immobile."

The boy yelped as his body was firmly positioned and pressed into the cavity. He tried to curl his biceps and bend his legs, but they were stuck to the bed. Whimpering, he tried to turn his head. Strands of hair had been sucked into dozens of holes, and they were almost ripped out of his scalp when he moved. He frowned and resigned himself to watching. Suspended above him hung a huge metal ball, wires and tubes hanging off it.

Müssala snapped on a pair of gloves and pulled a pair of long needles from their paper wrapping. Reaching up, she selected two thin hollow tubes trailing off the suspended metal ball and snapped them into the needles. She inspected their points. _Amazing- these aren't broken. Damn Praxis, always cheaping out on the equipment._ "You must stand back, at least behind that red line on the floor," she told the guard. "You don't want your armor near this when I turn it on." The KG nodded and took a few steps backward. She ran her tongue over her laced teeth. "I also can't be near the bed. I'll be in there," she jutted her chin at a glass enclosure in the corner.

"This is the Central Processor," she said, pulling a few wires from the metal ball. The boy strained his eyes, unable to tilt his head. Müssala taped them to his neck and forehead. "It's a metal sphere with two independently operating hemispheres. This is quite painful, 75," she said. "It has to be done after every treatment, though, so get used to it."

Müssala pushed one needle into his elbow. Number 75 screamed. She wiggled it into position and slid it up his arm, towards the shoulder. The boy gasped, unable to move or retaliate. Müssala turned the clamp at the end of the needle. "One more, stay calm," she said, puncturing his other arm. The KG pulled up his mask and winced. The boy screamed again as she twisted the long needle into his muscle tissue. Trickles of blood ran down into the plastic arm-shaped cavities.

Müssala ripped her gloves off, snatched the ECF, and ran behind the glass enclosure. The KG scanned the floor for the red line and stood behind it. Müssala tapped the control panel and watched the vitals monitor. His heart rate was moderately high. "Signs of distress," she squinted at the other rising and falling lines. "Three? Your biocritical level is already elevated. Hmm…"

**Welcome to the Central Processor, part of the Dark Warrior Instrument Matrix. You need level Axe Morbid clearance to proceed. Please enter password.**

**Thank you for entering password. Please hold while we verify your password.**

**Thank you for waiting. All clearance complete.**

**Welcome, Taetra Müssala.**

"Vackting security drisch," Müssala muttered. She flicked through the various menus and pulled up the E Factor Determination Protocol. "Yeah, yeah, new subject, first time, start slow…"

The upper hemisphere of the Central Processor started spinning. The lower hemisphere, with all its trailing wires and tubes, remained stationary. Purple sparks flashed as the top spun. Müssala pulled up the E Factor graphic, its counter set to zero.

"What's that?"

"_Mar's chodeiz!"_ Müssala turned. The KG had joined her in the glass cubical. "Don't you _ever _sneak up on a Taetra!" He shrugged. She scowled. "Don't touch anything." She waited while the computer slowly brought up all the automatic meters and ranges. _Maybe I can put this moron to good use. Without Slitter here it'll be hard to read all these anyway._ "See this?" she pointed to the vitals monitor. "The axis on the side goes up to eleven. If this line," she pointed to the steady biocritical line, which throbbed at three, "goes above ten, tell me immediately." The Guard nodded. "The Central Processor monitors heart rate and breathing and all that, but those aren't as important as this line." _If your biocritical line goes above ten for too long, it doesn't matter how hard your heart is pumping. The body goes into shock and your cells boil in your own exothermic output._

"What's that?" the KG pointed to a scaled graphic on the screen.

"The amount of dark eco the subject is exposed to," Müssala said. "We aren't putting any into him now, we're just seeing how much we _could_ before it killed him. That's what E Factor is." She tapped the screens, pulling up old values and looking through charts for earlier subjects. "If the treatments are successful, his E Factor should increase every time. This scale goes to ten. We've had a handful of subjects who graduated to more extreme measures. That requires a different machine and set up," she grinned. "This boy-o should be no exception."

The KG nodded. "Er… no eco's going to come out of him, right?"

Müssala rolled her eyes. "The needles are insulated. The eco won't ever technically leave the machine." She typed in the final code sequence and the Central Processor filled with dark eco. They watched as it flowed down the hollow tubes, paused at the clamps, and into the needles. The boy screamed.

The E Factor needle jumped and slowly started rising. Müssala scanned all the charts and levels, pushing buttons and taking notes. "Keep your eye on that biocritical level," she hissed at the KG. He turned and watched it.

"It's at four."

Müssala nodded. The room got warmer and the Processor spun. She glanced up. The boy's skin was blue in the light of the Central Processor. The monitor beeped and she slowed the eco concentration. "There's increased vital signs, normal. His body temperature is still in a safe range. Good." She bent forward. "That's interesting."

"Five, Taetra ma'am." The KG removed his mask and fanned his face with it.

Müssala frowned. "The needles weren't broken," she muttered. She tapped a few more screens and lowered the concentration further.

"Six."

"The Processor is having difficulty containing the dark eco," said Müssala. _Flippin' seaweed kitties, it's hot._ "I've never seen that before."

"Is that bad? Seven."

"I don't know. I think it's a good omen for the Dark Warrior Program." _If those needles don't hold, dark eco will break out into his body. E Factor determining eco is blended differently than the ore. I don't think it would hurt him…_ She tapped another monitor. "Body temp finally starting to go up."

"Eight."

The E Factor needle shuddered at 7.15 and kept rising. "Impressive," said Müssala.

"Nine!"

"_Oh Female of Blackness, this is your technician of glory."_

"Slitter! Shut up! Nine in E Factor!" Müssala cursed for not turning it off before the procedure. She tried to shut off the comm, strapped to her waist, by banging it against the wall. Her hands were busy flying over the controls. _Of course the skáhgadah calls when we're about to hit ten!_

Slitter made a noise indicating just how he felt about being left out of the procedure._ "Just calling to warn you, Vixen Lady. Your absolute favorite KG of all time is coming shortly."_

"Nine point five," said the soldier, looking uncertainly at Müssala's comm.

"_And I've been meaning to tell you. I don't think I get paid enough. You know what they told me when I signed up for this? 'A raise every six months.' I've seen farmers pull more money from a yakkow's ass than my paycheck-"_

"Get the vackt off the vackting comm!" She glared at the KG and he pushed _End Call_.

Müssala closed out of a few charts and held her finger over the Abort key. She and the KG waited, watching the biocritical level climb. A few bolts of electricity sizzled down the hollow tubes and they smelled burning cloth. The boy screamed.

_Come on, come on_, Müssala grit her teeth. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the E Factor chart and the biocritical line. _I don't want to smell any of this boy-o's flesh burning._ A trickle of sweat ran down the side of her face.

"Taetra!" The KG pointed. The boy was writhing on the bed.

Müssala's eyes widened. "He shouldn't be able to do that!" He kicked his legs, making a choking roaring noise. His voice had started to go hoarse. _Thank the Hora Quan he can't move his arms._

"Ten!"

Müssala slammed the button with her whole fist. The Central Processor whined and the upper hemisphere jolted to a stop. Dark eco flowed back up the needles and into the lower hemisphere. The boy yelped and coughed. "E Factor is 8.1!" _That'll show crocodog-vackter Erol. This one will need to use the upgraded machine sooner than I thought._ Müssala stuck the ECF chord into the main monitor and programmed it to accept all the new data.

The boy panted, frozen once more against the bed. Müssala pulled on a new pair of gloves and pulled the needles out. They were covered in blood. She wiped some of it off and saw the eco burns on the inside. "The diameter has increased," she said, holding one up to the light. "It's as if you were trying to absorb the eco, 75," she wiped his elbows clean and taped them. "Well done, boy-o."

He coughed and glared. Müssala flipped the vacuum switch off and the swooshing noise stopped. His arms jerked, as he had been trying to pull them up the whole time. She gripped his right hand and pulled him up. "Sit, now. Don't move. Remember what happened to 62." The KG stood at the other side of the bed. Müssala pulled the wires off the boy's face. He blinked. His back cracked as he sat up and swung his legs around. "Very good." Müssala glanced at the bed. Blond and green hair clogged the holes in the head cavity. "Ripped out your own scalp," she scolded. "Not too smart, boy-o."

Number 75 touched the back of his head with his other hand. His eyebrows cinched together as he felt the blood and tiny wounds. He made strange breathy noises. The tiny muscles in his face twitched.

Müssala tossed the needles into a biohazard container and pulled the boy off the bed. He swayed, hands gripping the sides of his shirt. The sleeves had long, broken burn marks running their length, white in the places where the fabric had been rolled. Müssala pushed his arms aside. He cried out but she ignored it. She yanked his shirt up and ran one finger down the axis in his skin. "Hot," she said. "You're a channeler, aren't you?"

He blinked at her and tried to pull his shirt down.

"Wherever you were from, you could use eco. Is that right?"

He nodded, still swaying unsteadily.

Müssala let go of him. "You," she said to the KG, "put him in that chair over there and watch him." She wiped the inside of the plastic cavity clean. "We've got to wait 'til Erol gets here before we put 75 in his cell."

"And why is that, exactly?"

Müssala jumped. She turned around slowly. "Ah, commander," she pulled her gloves off and glanced at the door. _Why didn't it beep when he entered? That natz-rammer. He must've shut off the warning tone._ "I see you don't have any of your KG boyfriends with you this time. Feeling bolder?"

Erol scowled. "Watch your mouth, woman." He glanced at the KG guarding the prisoner.

"I'd like to request that 75 have his own cell."

Erol held up his bandaged hand. "I see. You want a favor from me after doing this? You must be dumber than I thought."

Müssala smiled at his hand. _I hope all your fingers are broken._ "No," she said. "I am making a reasonable request, which is perfectly within the limits of the Dark Warrior Program to grant."

"What with all the other subjects dropping like flies," snickered Erol.

Müssala grit her teeth. "So you know there are vacancies. I want 75 to go without contact from the others. They will talk, and though he can't, letting prisoners communicate with each other is never recommended."

"Hmm… let me think about it," Erol put his undamaged hand to his chin and looked at the ceiling. "Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm."

Müssala tapped her metal foot on the floor. Clang-clang-clang. "His E Factor is extremely high and we haven't even begun the treatment. This boy is very promising. He will be the Dark Warrior."

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm." Erol looked around the lab, grinning.

Müssala narrowed her eyes.

"Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm."

"Erol!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," said the commander. "Was I wasting your time?"

Müssala was silent.

His grin twisted into a sneer. "No. Number 75 cannot have his own cell. He will share one, just like all the others."

Müssala looked away, chewing the inside of her mouth. _You stupid vackting piece of Perpetuan drisch._ "What do you want?"

"The time line. It says when the treatments will occur and when the boy will be ready. You should've sent it to me last night," he walked past her and sat on the edge of the bed. Müssala resisted the urge to jab him with one of the used eco-burned needles. "The Baron wants to know when he can expect to terminate you. Gotta get the paper work done first, you know." Erol picked up one of the wires from the Central Processor and rubbed it between two fingers. "Illegal assassinations take time to clear. You have to pay off the morticians and all that."

"I will not be terminated," hissed Müssala. "This one is the Dark Warrior."

"Where's the god damn time line, Müssala?"

"I'll get it to you!" _The time line? You idiot! It's a minor detail and it's not even required!_ "Don't waste my time with this drisch! How am I supposed to get things done when you keep coming in here?" Müssala turned her back to him and walked over to the glass enclosure.

Erol grinned. "I want everything on this one," he said. "Not just the time line. I want all the paper work, all the readouts. Every time you go near this boy I want to know what's happening. Twice daily updates, just like it says in the rules. We wouldn't want you slacking off on the most important subject, would we?"

Müssala scrunched her eyes shut. She swore internally. _Looks like I'll need Slitter after all. I was hoping to do this one on my own. Ugh. Curse you, Erol. I don't want to waste my time doing every single regulatory step. You won't even read all of it._ She thought of all the write-ups he now required. _I'll be up every night. Hmm… this can go two ways…_ "All right, Erol," she said, unplugging the ECF screen. "You will have updates daily. In fact, I'll put out my first Requirements List tonight." She grinned. _I require every top-of-the-line instrument the Baron hasn't got._

Erol looked at her sideways. "Good," he said finally.

"Anything else?" Müssala walked over to the boy and slapped a white sticker on his shirt. She wrote "75" on it in permanent ink.

"I was supposed to race tomorrow in the Pre-Festival races," Erol said, "but due to certain _disabilities,_" he held up his bandaged hand, "I am unable to attend."

"_Shame,_" said Müssala.

"Your pay has been slashed by thirty percent." Erol stood and grinned. "Money always makes me feel better. Did you know that? Eco in the bank," he nodded. "I feel better already."

Müssala turned to the KG. "Put him in with 70. Comm me when you're done." The KG nodded, saluted Erol, and left, pulling the boy after him. Müssala watched the door shut. It beeped. She made sure her comm was ready to accept calls and turned to Erol. "I don't give an ottsel's ass if you cut my pay. I still earn more than you. And if you don't have anything else to tell me, get out. I have a lot of work to do."

"I can't wait to hang your head on my wall," Erol said, getting up from the bed. "You're hardly more than a Metal Head yourself, aren't you, Taetra?"

"That much closer to Perfection," she replied. "Get out, Erol."

"Or should I take your hands?" Erol glanced at his own. "Seems I could do with a new one." Müssala bent her arms back and stood on her heels. Erol laughed. "You're like an animal trying to look bigger when it's cornered. And what's up with your foot? Is it really all metal?" Before Müssala could retort, he jumped down and pulled her skirt up to her knees. "Hey, it is. Why-"

CLANG

Erol doubled over, gasping.

"What did I tell you about touchin' a Taetra?!" Müssala punched him in the back of the head. "If you weren't the vackting Commander I'd kill you myself!"

"Not… likely!" Erol jammed a taser into her leg. She cursed as electricity coursed through her metal-laced body. Erol grunted and stood, rubbing his lower stomach.

Müssala reached for the Central Processor to give the electricity a way out. The wires and tubes whipped through the air. Panting, she shook her head as the last of it dissipated.

"Fool," she said. "A baby could take more than that."

Erol glared at her. "I'll have you, Taetra," he spat.

"So that's what this is really about? You have a strange way of showing interest, _glakkickh_. I thought after our last encounter you'd have gotten it through your head."

"I always get what I want," said Erol, making a fist. "In the end, woman, I always get what I want." He turned and left.

Müssala made rude hand gestures at the door. It closed without a sound. _I'll have to remember he can sneak in without warning._ She thought of the door to her quarters on the second floor of the KG fortress. _If he tries anything, the wrath will be on him like a hatching baby 'Quan on its brothers._

She sat down with the ECF in her lap and updated the file for Number 75.

**GN: ?**

**G: M**

**R: Haven**

**Mother: EP?**

**Father: mutt**

**PE: Complete**

**E-F1: 8.1 **

**EE: mp high**

**T: Pending**

**Tx: Pending**

**RDs: Pending**

**Notes: All E Factor readouts attached to this electronic submission**

Müssala punched the keyboard as she typed the last sentence. "Be up all damn night doing this," she said, and began sifting through the readouts from the Central Processor.

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**Whee! All that doom and we haven't even begun the actual torture yet! Another chapter done. It was loooooonnng. School starts again tomorrow so I have no idea when the next chapter will be done. Thank you and please review!**


	6. Shokaul

**Thanks to all who have reviewed, and those who have come back. **

**OMG, I hope this chapter makes sense. It's past 2am. Thanks to Skerries for post-midnight critique on the logic of the filaments, among other things. Enjoy!**

Slitter grinned.

"-two hundred fifty seven orbs, Müssala!"

He picked up a scalpel and, inspecting its sharp edge, wiggled his eyebrows at 75.

"It's necessary for the Program!"

Number 75 glanced from Slitter to the door, behind which the muffled voices shouted.

"That's an outrageous amount of money! Do you even know what this machinery does?"

"Of course I do, you vackting choidez-groping fool! I wrote the list!"

"Oooh, she's feisty," said Slitter. He chuckled. "Heh. Groping."

"You know we have a budget!"

In his arm-flailing rage, Erol activated the automatic doors. Slitter and 75 got a glimpse of the two in the hall, fists raised, before the doors slid shut again.

"It'll come to blows next," said Slitter. "Me, I'm bettin' on the woman. Usually you can't trust a woman for a fight, but I know Müssala."

"If you had read the progress reports I sent you, you'd know that 75 will require an upgraded Central Processor!"

"What's wrong with the one we've got now?"

"It's too weak! I could hardly roast your soft choidez on it!"

Slitter whistled.

"That's enough!" Erol's fist made contact with something metallic, and a high-pitched noise reverberated throughout the hallway. "OW! I've had enough of your insults, woman! We have a perfectly fine Advanced Central Processor in the next room!"

"That one is at least three years old. It will not do!"

"Yak yak, blah blah," Slitter turned away from the door. "I think we all know how this is going to end. The mighty commander's gonna get bitch-slapped some more," he glanced at 75, "just between you and me, I think he likes it- but he'll steadfastly refuse to give us the orbs we need for your continued painy painy pain. Shame." He grabbed the ECF. "It wasn't very nice of her to do E Factor without me," he poked at the screen, "and then make me do all the boring stuff." Slitter sighed. "Toxicity, toxicity…" He glanced up at 75. "E Factor of 8.1? Already? You're in for a hell of a ride, freak-to-be."

75 glared at him. For the nth time, he pulled against the restraints that secured him to a wheeled chair.

"By all means," said Slitter, watching the chains slide back and forth over 75's arms, "continue your attempt to escape. It's very amusing. Okay, 8.1 and your body mass, which I daresay will be decreasing shortly, times the incidence of usage, which, given the size of your HUUUUGE axis -making up for something there, buddy?- I'm guessing is somewhere around 17…" He squinted at the screen. "_Enter data linearly, unless doing factorial recombination of percentage, in which case weight not is included._ What the hell?" He scowled at the ECF. "_To compute Toxicity, enter the following numerical values…_ I did! You stupid machine!" He pressed buttons with the blunt end of the scalpel. "I hate these freaking software updates."

"-well to hell with your damn _he's the next one, I know it_! I'm not medically trained, but I can tell that your methods invariably lead to your subjects dropping dead. We're not wasting any more orbs on your expensive death machines! I might as well go in there and shoot him in the head myself!"

"You will not touch him!"

"Heh. The Commander hasn't been touching you, has he?" Slitter frowned at the screen. "Screw this, I'm doing something fun." He tossed the ECF onto a counter and pulled on some gloves. "Do you know the look on someone's face when they don't know what's going to happen to them? Well, it's nowhere near as funny as when they _do_ know." Slitter wheeled 75 over to a table. "We're going to play the mix and match game!"

He walked to the other side and faced 75. "Aaaannnd what's under this table? Why, a bucket o' real bones! How macabre!" He grunted and pulled a huge blue box up onto the tabletop. "Today we're going to find the ones that could've come from you! Are you ready? You look more confused than scared. Just wait."

Slitter reached in. The bones clacked and scraped against each other. "And the winner is… Subject 27! One of the slummers who was thrown into jail for lookin' at the Baron funny." He held the long bone up to the light. "This guy got shot in the other leg, which is too bad. We could've used a pair of good femurs." Slitter lay it down on the table. "We'll put this in the 'maybe' pile. Who's next?"

He shook the box and reached in. "Ahh, here we are. Subject 4, our first child," he held up a tiny bone, thin and white. "Nope, definitely too small." He placed it on the table. "That's the 'no' pile. If you see one of the 'nos' roll into the 'maybes,' speak up, hmm? Heheh. Lessee… no, no, maybe, no, definitely not, maybe…"

Ten minutes later, two piles of bones threatened to topple onto Subject 75, and the doors slid open. "Slitter!"

"Maybe, no, undecided," The technician didn't look up. "What, my luscious-"

"Why haven't you finished the E Factor calculations?" Müssala stood in the doorway, arms crossed. "Or was it too difficult?"

"What did Erol say? No, maybe, maybe, no-"

"_Commander_ Erol said you're not getting another orb until he sees some results," said Erol.

Slitter looked up. "Why, hello Commander."

"Save it, lab drone." Erol held up one hand. "I'm letting you know, as I am obligated to do by your employment contract, that if Müssala fails, you're going down with her."

Müssala narrowed her eyes.

"Going down, huh? Wouldn't mind that too much," said Slitter. He banged two bones together. "Bu-dum-bum! And he makes another socially abhorrent, yet witty, remark."

"This is a serious matter!" said Erol. "If I were you and I wanted to keep my job, I'd rethink my loyalties." He faced Müssala. "The Baron wants a demonstration by the end of the week."

"He'll have it. Now get out of my lab," Müssala spat.

"My lab, soon enough." The Commander turned and left.

Müssala swore. She twisted her necklace in her hands. "A demonstration? This week?"

"Demonstrations are fun! I like the parts where the people scream and I laugh maniacally and the Baron rolls his eyes, but you know, deep down, he likes it." Slitter threw all the bones in the 'no' pile back into the box. He sorted through the remaining ones. "I couldn't get the new program to accept the E Factor data," he said. "You didn't put the code in right. Next time, don't start without me."

"There won't be a next time," said Müssala, poking the screen with one finger. "This boy is the last one."

"Hrmm." Slitter arranged six bones on the table. "Hand-selected filament molds, made from the best stuff on the planet- one hundred percent recycled people. The environmentalists can't complain. Now, lets size you up." Slitter pressed the bones against 75's arms and legs. "Nope, too long… too short… too wide…" The boy edged as far as he could from them.

After a few minutes of approximation, Slitter slammed a few onto the tabletop. "And we have our winners!" The bones had been sawed lengthwise; he took the tops off each and laid the two halves next to each other.

"Slitter, we're going to have to do them all today." Müssala frowned, looking over Subject 75.

"Really!"

"Go get the filaments."

Slitter practically skipped into the next room.

"Boy-o, I don't envy you." Müssala inspected the inside of the bones. She cleaned them and put a thick layer of flexible plastic in each. "We have to insert a storage material for the dark eco. You'll be able to absorb it in small pieces until you have enough to perform an offensive maneuver. The long bones of the body are best."

Subject 75 blinked.

"You are going to be the Baron's ultimate weapon," Müssala said. The boy's eyes widened. "Ah, no one had told you yet, what you were doing here. You are a project, an object. An expensive one. It wouldn't be good if the eco floated around your organs."

"Yeah," Slitter pushed a cart with a large metal container on it into the room. "You should've seen the people we enhanced before we figured that out. Heh."

Subject 75 clenched his fists.

Müssala lifted the top off the container. Black steam rose and twisted around the ceiling, never dissipating. She wrinkled her nose. "Pass me the filament gloves."

"Gladly."

She pulled on the pair of thick plastic gloves, the inside netted with protective green eco. Müssala slowly dipped a hand into the container. _This is a good batch, nearly weightless._ "It's ready," she said.

Slitter held up the first two bone halves. Müssala pulled out a mass of fine black threads. It glistened in the lab light. A strong chemical smell cut through the air. Müssala pulled the threads until they were as long as the bone, and set them in the halves. Slitter grabbed the next bone.

They continued until the bones were filled with shining threads.

"Are we doing a cranial, too?" asked Slitter.

"No, we better not. That would be too much, I think." Müssala waved for him to take the cart away. She touched the threads. "Almost dry." She tapped the ECF screen and scowled at the half-done E Factor calculations.

"The implantation device is ready," called Slitter.

"Okay, boy-o," said Müssala. She rolled his chair away from the table and up to the suction bed. "You're going in there. Do _not_ attempt to escape." She slowly unwound the chains from his legs. "Slitter! Get in here."

"Just a minute."

"Stay still," Müssala said. She kept one hand on her gun and undid the chains on 75's wrists.

The boy shot up out of the chair, spun around, smiled a little smile at her, and punched her in the face. "Hi-yahh!"

"SLITTER!" Müssala stumbled back, covering her nose, gun momentarily forgotten. "_Vackting natz inkter!_"

Subject 75 shook his hand furiously, frowning at the cuts on his knuckles. He glanced around the room.

"What was that?" Slitter called.

Müssala screamed in her own language, blood streaming between her fingers. Subject 75 spun and she sank to her knees to avoid the kick. The boy backed up and kicked again. Müssala grabbed his foot and pulled him to the floor. She pressed the gun to his throat. "Don't make me do this," she said. The boy glared at her.

"Woah!" Slitter poked his head into the room. "Am I interrupting something?"

"You were supposed to be here," Müssala said, her voice rising, "while I unchained the subject!" She wiped her face on the back of her hand. The filament glove glowed a faint green.

"Oopsies." Slitter pulled Müssala up and grabbed 75's wrists. "Just for that, we're going to inject your bones with acid and dissolve the marrows. Oh wait, we were going to do that anyway. Suuoooooo… lucky you, you got to punch someone first." He shoved the boy into the bed and turned the suction on. Subject 75 gasped as the force pressed the air from his lungs. "Got blood on your shirt," said Slitter. "That splatter's shaped like a bunny. Aww."

Müssala rubbed antiseptic on her face. The impact had sheared some of the skin off her metal-plated nasal bone. She grit her teeth at the sting. "Independence is not a desirable trait in a soldier," she said.

"He'll get over it," said Slitter. "Working with Erol, you can't help but start to liquefy your brain."

Müssala groaned and pushed the suction bed into the next room. The boy looked around with wide eyes, taking in the long mechanical arm suspended above him. Müssala fed the filament bundles into the machine. "Inject the liquefier."

"My pleasure." Slitter hefted an enormous syringe. The liquid inside was bubbly and clear. The needle was tipped with a metal bit. "This is gonna pierce all the way through," he said. He grinned. "Local anesthesia?"

"No," said Müssala, carefully putting a bandage over her nose. "I think he needs to learn what happens when he lashes out." She leaned over him. "When you accept that you are mine, the pain lessens." Subject 75 stuck his tongue out at her. "Heh! Do you know what that means in my country? Well, the answer is no. You're too young for me."

"Ooooh, really? What's it mean?" Slitter marked 75's upper arm, balancing the syringe against his shoulder.

_It means you desire to rip the clothing off the one you face and blend his flesh with your own. Many times._ Müssala paused. "Perhaps I will show you someday."

"Does it involve kinky Taetra things?"

"It can."

"Like spikes and pieces of Metal Heads no one would _ever_ think to cut off-"

"Slitter! Inject the liquefier!"

"Okay, okay. Keep your skirt on. Or don't." He lined the needle tip up to the mark and shoved the needle in. Subject 75 yelped. "That's just the needle going into your skin, muscle, and severing some minor veins." He pushed down with all his weight. "C'mon, c'mon-"

Crack!

The boy screamed.

"That's the needle fracturing the bone," Slitter pushed the plunger down. Liquid streamed into the needle. The screams increased in pitch. "And that's the mild acid designed to eat your living marrow so we can shove a foreign substance in! But don't worry, it'll grow back." Slitter pulled the needle out. Müssala dabbed the puncture wound with gauze.

Subject 75 stopped screaming long enough to take a breath. He choked on it, spitting into the air. Müssala wiped his mouth, pulled the filament gloves off, and put her hand over his eyes. "Hurry up, start the machine."

"You're closer." Slitter had his tongue out, making two marks on 75's lower arm.

Müssala grumbled and pushed a few buttons.

"Beginning filament insertion. Please stabilize subject." The mechanical arm lowered one of the filament bundles over 75.

"Aww, let him watch," said Slitter. "It'll be good for him."

The boy gasped, his chest shuddering with staccato breaths. He grimaced under Müssala's hands.

"No. Too much shock."

Müssala pushed another button. Droplets of dark eco trickled down the arm onto the filaments. They absorbed it and concentrated into a thick fiber. With delicate movements, the arm wiggled the fiber into the needle wound. Subject 75 strained against the suction bed.

"Don't," Müssala said. "Slitter, hurry up! He's going to tear his own skin off." She pushed his shoulders down. Eyes uncovered, the boy saw the giant needle and screamed.

And screamed and screamed.

"Welcome to hell!" Slitter said cheerfully. "Only eleven more bones to go!"

"I've chosen a name for him," said Müssala.

"Oh? Since when do we give them names?" Slitter marked 75's forearms.

"Since they matter."

"What is it?"

"Shőkaul."

Slitter raised an eyebrow and leaned on the needle. "I assume that's crazy Taetra-speak for something?"

Crack!

"'Living agony.'"

"Subtle," said Slitter. "I like it." He pulled the needle out.

"Left tibia completed," droned the computer.

The boy screamed on.

**GN: Shőkaul**

**G: M**

**R: Haven**

**Mother: EP?**

**Father: mutt**

**PE: Complete**

**E-F1: 8.1 **

**EE: mp high**

**T: Pending**

**Tx: Pending**

**RDs: Pending**

**Notes: Filaments have been inserted successfully. Will begin eco transfusions tomorrow, provided subject hasn't rejected implants. Erol, you bastard, if you're really reading this, buy that new Advanced Central Processor or I'll kill you in your sleep. Blood cell counts to begin in three days. Recommend subject be isolated to prevent pathogen exposure until reestablishment of immune system.**


End file.
